


A Lawyer, A Hacker, and A Sociopath

by mother_finch



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, Gen, It'll be fixed starting now, mother-finch fiction, my bad - Freeform, so the '&' means platonic?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-19 05:19:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5955103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mother_finch/pseuds/mother_finch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PROMPT: RootxShaw prompt- Zoe comes to help the team again, and its the first she has worked with Root. More importantly, its the first time she worked with both Shaw and Root together. Because Root and Shaw are anything but subtle, Zoe notices the innuendos from Root, the playful eye rolls from Shaw, and the heart-eyes directed at each other from the both of them. And Zoe doesn't hesitate to tease them and doesn't back down from Shaw's death glares.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Lawyer, A Hacker, and A Sociopath

Zoe Morgan's stiletto heels click against the frigid, unforgiving marble floors of City Hall with an echo that strikes every defendant to the bone. She wears a smile like a gun with the safety off, her white teeth peeking out with both beauty and vicarious danger, and she prowls the halls like a lioness in search of trembling, petrified prey. Her eyes glide easily back and forth across the hall, landing on each orange jumper and superciliously expensive suit, their stone cold edge feeding on every insecurity, leaving each to thank God that she's not the prosecutor handling their case.

In a world of scrambling capitalists, Morgan is a one woman empire.

Rounding the corner, Zoe's rolling glare lands upon one defendant that stands out from the rest. He peers back at her, collar crisp and eyes blank, hands toying subconsciously with golden cuff links. His attorney peers over- does a double take. Eyes expanding like a fawn in headlights, the lawyer wraps his arm around the defendant's shoulders, spinning his face out of Zoe's eyesight. Her cool smile curves into a smirk. _At least one of them realizes the danger._ She can only imagine the thousands of dollars that attorney's being payed to keep his employer squeaky clean, and she remembers the days when that sort of money would be falling at her feet from any murderer, drug lord, or corrupt politician. Yet, after her time spent with John Reese and his rag tag group of fugitives and federal agents, she decided that what's better than cash is the taste of justice nailing rich bastards like that man to the wall.

Her phone rings.

* * *

 

She slips the cell from a sleek black purse, checking the message that's bubbled up.

**JOHN: You there yet?**

She laughs to herself quietly, shaking her head.

**ME: Almost. Getting impatient?**

Zoe peers up, making sure no one is paying her any mind. The large oak doors to the left call to her, a beacon for her to come close enough to swallow her whole.

Ping.

**JOHN: No, but the thing is-**

Gun fire erupts from behind the doors, and Morgan's eyes snap back to them, expanding the slightest bit, mouth falling open. It's barely audible, no more than small thuds, but she knows the sound. Taking another quick scan, no one else has taken alarm. Smoothing down her dress, Zoe drops her phone back into her purse, leaving her hand within as her fingers coil around a small caliber hand gun. She takes a slow breath, then starts forward.

Pressing her shoulder against the wood, it digs into her skin with a cold, foreboding chill. It inches open, past all her efforts towards efficiency, all the while one thought runs through her mind:

_Is John down?_

Most likely not. If anything, he's the one still shooting. Still, there is a small worry that grows like a tumor in the back of her mind. All gunfire stops.

Throwing the gargantuan courtroom door open the rest of the way, Morgan whips out the gun from her purse, aiming it instantly at a woman in handcuffs and a vibrant, orange jumper. She's bent over, snatching blood splattered keys from a guard who's too busy hugging what's left of his knees to protest. Past the dark brown tendrils of hair that fall over the woman's face, Zoe can make out what appears to be a smile.

The door slams behind Morgan, causing this mystery convict to peer up. Her eyes are large and brilliant, irises a light, glimmering brown. At seeing Zoe, the woman's small smirk pulls into a large, toothy grin. Zoe's eyes flicker to the gun in her cuffed hands and back.

"You must be Zoe," the woman greets, as if they're meeting for dinner, and she's not stepping over a groaning body to approach Morgan. Her smile is sincere- _maybe too sincere_. "I've heard so much about you," the convict gushes, still approaching, gun still in hand. She stops only a foot from Zoe, gun down, and keychain looped around her index finger. Zoe holds her handgun at her hip, still aimed out and up. The convict peers at it without the slightest inkling of fear and back to Zoe, flipping her hair from her eyes.

"You can call me Root."

_'BANG'_

______\ If Your Number's Up /______

Sameen Shaw bursts through the chamber doors, past the Judge's bench and skids to a halt in the aisle way just in time to see Root stumbling back, Zoe Morgan watching her with curious but cold eyes, and a guard balled up at the edge of a bench seat.

"Hey!" Shaw calls out, jogging forward, her voice a mixture of annoyance and anger. She dashes around the guard, who gurgles out a pained groan for help.

Shaw turns to him before taking a curious glance at his shattered knee. Then, she takes inventory of her own attire, a matching guard uniform- taken from the real one which currently resides, sedated, in the back of her trunk.

"Just, uh, put some pressure on it," she mutters to him absent-mindedly, then turns back to the two women.

"Shaw," Zoe sighs out, relief in her eyes. Then, they shift with questions. "Where's John?"

"Didn't he _tell_ you?" Shaw responds, a bitter tinge to her voice as she turns towards Root. "He couldn't make it." She looks at Root, and at the crimson that bubbles up at her shoulder. Shaw swears under her breath, due to irritation more than anything, then rolls her eyes.

"Don't look so _worried_ , Sameen," Root coos, eyes pooling with affection and a hint of suppressed pain.

"This looks _worried_ to you?" Shaw scoffs, although she's unable to hold down the hint of a smile. "Because it feels like my 'You had it _coming_ ' face." Root shrugs, then winces, and Shaw moves in.

"You're telling me you _know_ her?" Zoe asks from behind, openly confused. Shaw barely registers the question, unzipping the orange jumper and peeling the matted red fabric from Root’s skin to reveal an equally red undershirt.

"I told you _one_ thing," Shaw seethes under her breath, just loud enough for Root to hear. "I said I'm going to the bathroom; _don't_ shoot anyone."

"That's two things," Root points out, and Shaw suppresses the urge to press her thumb into the bullet wound. A flesh wound at least, making only some disinfectant and gauze necessary.

"We have to go to the car," Shaw comments at last, her voice a grumble as she tugs Root's jumper back into place. Shaw turns to go, but stops as arms rest on her shoulders, the chill of small metal chains sliding down the exposed skin of her neck. Her eyes pull open the slightest bit, not expecting Root to drape her arms over her neck. From directly ahead, Zoe's expression tugs up with a sly smirk. Shaw can feel her ears heating up, eyes warning Morgan to keep her thoughts to herself.

"Hey; Sweetie?" Root purrs in Shaw's ear, and Shaw's throat begins to close. "Think you can get me out of these?" She extends her hands straight ahead, revealing the cuffs as her body presses against Shaw's back, and Shaw can feel the heat of Root’s body beginning to seep through the oversized guard jacket. She can barely focus on a anything as her head spins, becoming more drunk than she'd like to admit with Root so close. Then, her eyes settle on the gun still held in Root's hands, and the intoxicating aura shatters.

"What? So you can _shoot_ someone _else_?" Shaw cracks, swiping the ring of keys from Root. Then, with a second thought, Shaw tears the gun from her hands as well before pulling away from Root's grasp.

Grabbing Root's good arm just above the elbow, she starts to walk her out, ignoring the burning stare from Zoe.

"You coming?" Shaw mutters to her, reaching out and pulling open the door.

"I don't know," Zoe replies. "Is _'the car'_ code for a private party, or are we actually going somewhere?" Root beams at the remark, appearing as if she's all but forgotten Zoe shot her minutes ago.

"We have a number," Shaw informs her tersely, trying in vain to ignore the impending pressure of subtext and smoldering glares.

"Uh- _huh_ ," Zoe responds with a slow nod, then pulls at the other door.

"What about me?" The man on the floor squeaks out, and the three turn to look at him before peering at each other for any ideas.

"I'm pretty sure there's going to be a court session in here at 8:30?" Zoe offers, and Shaw tilts her head from side to side, thinking it over.

"Help'll be here in a couple of minutes," Shaw tells him, then they turn and head for the exit. With silent shadow slinking and a bit of luck, they make it to the parking lot without being stopped. No questions are asked about the growing red smear that stains the orange jumpsuit Root wears, and within minutes, they are at a black SUV with heavily tinted windows.

Shaw yanks open the back door, and Root slips in, lifting her hands out at Shaw one last time, eyes both innocent and cunning. Shaw stares at her expressionless a moment, then rolls her eyes, unlocking the cuffs and stuffing them in her pocket jacket. Root smiles brightly before scooting further into the car.

"You never told me you had a girlfriend," Zoe throws out nonchalantly at Shaw's side. Shaw's gaze snaps to her instantly, eyes hot as coals and unforgiving as Hell. It doesn't even faze the attorney. "She's pretty cute."

Shaw shoves a set of keys forcefully into Zoe's chest, and Zoe holds back a wheeze, hand coming up to grab them.

"Just drive, would you?" Shaw all but spits. "I have to patch her up, considering you shot her." Zoe's eyes narrow the slightest bit, but she doesn't fight back. Instead, she brushes past Shaw towards the front of the car.

"Should I be putting in headphones?" She calls back to Shaw, and Shaw- now feverish with fluster- gets in the back seat and slams the door shut behind her.

_____\ We'll Find You /____

"Have I ever told you I love it when you play doctor?" Root asks dotingly as Shaw finishes taping the gauze down to Root's skin.

"Only every time you get shot," Shaw responds, voice no longer holding the edge from before. From the driver's seat, Zoe peers back into the rear view mirror, just to see Shaw leaning over Root, mere inches apart as her fingers trace the white bandages. Bandages that look as if they've been unnecessarily double layered.

Root tilts her head to the side, hair spilling across her shoulders as she gives Shaw a tight-lipped smile. "Well, when you put it _that_ way," Root replies, "I just sound like a reckless romantic." Shaw's teeth grind as her nose flares and her eyes shoot daggers and her heart sputters. Pulling away from Root roughly, Shaw clambers into the front passenger seat, dropping down with an irritated huff.

"Trouble in paradise?" Zoe ask, barely able to swallow her grin as Shaw delivers a ruinous death glare. "Where are we headed?" She continues, sparing Shaw- for the moment.

"Strip mall a couple more minutes ahead," Shaw replies, lounging back in her seat. "John's with the number now; we're taking a road trip to visit his old boss."

"And you couldn't have just called and asked me to meet you there?" Zoe questions with a chuckle.

"What would be the fun in that?" Root chips in from the back, bringing both of her elbows to the center console as she leans in between them.

"You might still have full range of your shoulder?" Zoe offers, and Root laughs mellifluously.

"True. But then I wouldn't have been able to show Sam how good I look in orange," Root points out, much to the tensing of Shaw's shoulders.

" _Sam_?" Zoe echoes, toying with the nickname as it rolls about her tongue. She turns her gaze briefly to Shaw. "Didn't take you for the kind to like pet names, Shaw," she comments, and Shaw clicks her teeth.

"I'm a constant surprise," she answers at last, a defeat in her tone as she gives up the fight.

"Does that mean _I_ get to call you Sam, _too_?" Morgan cracks, and Shaw gives a short, cruel chuckle.

"Only if you want to get shot."

As if a cue, Root slips back from her perch, rummaging through something in the back seat.

"Now, why didn't you tell me about her sooner?" Zoe questions, voice kept just low enough for the two of them to hear. Shaw sits up a little straighter in her seat.

"Mercy," Shaw remarks tactlessly. The rummaging gives way to shuffling, and Morgan's brow furrows slightly.

"What is she doing back there?" Zoe asks, and Shaw takes a look through the rearview mirror.

"Changing," Shaw comments after a moment, and Zoe's eyes widen the slightest bit.

"Girl's not shy, is she?" Zoe muses, and Shaw can't even begin to fight the smile that pulls up her features.

"You have no idea."

"You know," Zoe says to her, eyes sweeping the road for any sign of a strip mall. "We haven't had a girl's night in a while. I know it won't be quite the same without Joss..." Zoe pauses a minute, thinking back to the charming detective. "But your girlfriend seems like a pretty good time." Zoe halts, hint of a smile just waiting for the cue to curl up her lips; yet, it doesn't come. No fatal glare burning into the side of her cheek; no snide retort that _girlfriend_ was not the right terminology. Not a peep from the passenger seat.

Zoe gives it another minute before curiosity finally boils over, and she has no choice but to look to her right. She finds Shaw, arm resting on the center console, gaze angled up a little too high for the front windshield. Zoe knows where her gaze is, and what Shaw's seeing through that mirror.

And she can't help but chuckle.

"Shaw? _Hey_ ," Zoe taps Shaw's shoulder, and her eyes snap instantly to the attorney, taking her arm from the console and leaning back towards the door of her passenger seat, dazed gaze saying she hasn't heard a thing Zoe's said. "Kinda glad you asked me to drive," Zoe remarks quietly, humor bubbling at the edges of her words. "With where _your_ attention is focused."

Shaw raises a brow, appearing as if she has no idea of the context of the conversation. In response, Zoe tilts her head towards the mirror. Perhaps it's just Morgan's imagination, but she can almost swear Shaw pales half a shade. Then, Shaw shakes her head, and her cool demeanor returns.

"I was watching our kidnapped rent-a-cop," Shaw responds. "I think he might be coming to." Shaw points up at the mirror, and Zoe reluctantly looks up. Past Root shimmying on a black leather jacket, Zoe finds the top of a balding head wedged between the side of the car and the back seat, looking no more lively than a corpse.

"Oh, I'm sure _he_ was what was holding your attention so _firmly_ ," Zoe remarks with a sarcastic flare that makes Shaw's eyes glow red. Root leans forward again, and Shaw grudgingly drops the glare. "Can I ask what you two need _me_ for?" Zoe questions, seeing a small strip of tan stucco buildings and brick-red roofs peeking out behind half dead shrubs.

"We needed someone with a believable background in law," Shaw replies, voice tighter than before.

"And who _wouldn't_ recognize Zoe Morgan strolling into their store?" Root concludes, peering over at Shaw with affectionate eyes. Shaw tries to ignore her, not needing another thing for Zoe to pick apart, but finds it exceedingly hard.

"What kind of law force do you need?" Zoe asks, grip pulling on the steering wheel as excitement begins to course through her veins.

"Let's just say where we're going," Root responds, gaze not leaving Shaw's profile, "their last bill of health was not _exactly_ satisfactory." Shaw breaks her vigilance at that, eyes burning a warning deep into Root's skull. Root doesn't seem to notice at all; rather, her eyes spew a thousand words of conversation on something shared between the two of them. _Something that's making Shaw exceedingly flustered and Root exceedingly smug_. Zoe can't help but send glances their way every few seconds, wondering what dialogue is going on between them. And, better yet, what the hell kind of business are they about to walk into?

_______\ A Lawyer /_______

" _Here?_ " Morgan asks skeptically, gaze focused up at a large store sign with red paint peeling from the letters. The entire mini-mall wreaks of dog urine and desperation, and the overwhelming screech of a stereo causes the blacked-out windows of the store to pulse. _This store. It had to be this store._ "What could you _possibly_ need in here?"

"I told you," Shaw responds, shrugging off her guard jacket, exposing the toned muscle of her arms, and tossing it into the nearest waste bin. Root's eyes never leave her. "Our guy used to work here." She turns back, pulling her ponytail tight, only to stop, eyes fixed on Root. Zoe peers between the two of them as if it's a face off moments from beginning.

Shaw runs her tongue over her teeth, fluster mounting in her eyes.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you it's not _polite_ to _stare_ ," Shaw growls with condescending sarcasm, breaking her fatal glare at Root and starting for the door. The tone of voice is enough to make Zoe feel pins and needles in her chest, yet Root's adoring smile only grows. _Perhaps_ , Zoe thinks to herself, _she can read into something I can't._

"You and I both know my manners could use a little _work_ ," Root replies easily, and Shaw rolls her eyes.

"Well try and be on your best behavior in here," Shaw shoots back, venom dissipating. "We don't need this guy to get the wrong idea."

" _Yeah_ ," Morgan snorts. "Because the three of us strolling into a store called ' _Kinky's_ ' isn't bad enough." Shaw stiffens, then- slowly- her lips tug into a devious smile, eyes lighting with sinister fire.

"Out of all the things to be afraid of," Shaw starts, voice oozing with smug satisfaction, "you draw the line at a little _sex shop?_ " Zoe's eyes narrow, and without another word, she takes to the door in stride, throwing it open. Through the reflection of the tinted glass, she catches Shaw shooting a victorious gaze Root's way, and Zoe can't help but to devise away of making it crumble. _All for the sake of sport, of course._

However, as soon as the door shuts behind them, Zoe's every thought is drowned out by the sharp ache of her brain melting. The music that spills from every corner of the store is skull splitting and intense, loud enough that the beat of the drum makes the lawyer's feet rumble in her heels. The lights are so low that it's nearly impossible to see more than a few feet ahead; still, the glint of- _certain objects_ \- is impossible to miss. Old tapes and slightly newer DVDs line the back wall, and magazines are laid out haphazardly atop pint-sized cabinets and hangers, a fine coat of dust and grime coating every untouched inch of the store. As Morgan does a 360, she takes in each detail, compiling the perfect stack of violations to throw at the owner.

"Canni, uh, help you ladies with somethin'?" A man calls out from deep with the store, words weighed down with his heavy New York accent. An ancient wood door creaks open behind a long glass counter, and the plump owner waddles out, grin as greasy as his receding hairline. His large, greedy eyes look each woman over in turn, pupils dilating as his gaze finally lands on Zoe.

"Well _look_ who it _is_!" He cries, shimmying out from behind the counter and coming towards them with open arms. "If it isn't Zoe Morgan. You can call me Buddy. _Damn_ \- wait 'til I tell the boys that Zoe Morgan does her choice shoppin’  _here_."

Zoe and Shaw share a look, and Morgan can't help the cruel sneer that tugs at the corner of her lip.

"Believe me," Zoe assures him, turning her gaze back on him, "if I were _ever_ going to purchase anything, it would _not_ be from this store." Buddy's smile falters as his arms drop back to his sides.

"Come _on_ now," he whines, taking another step closer to be heard over the boom of the bass. "I do half off deals for anyone in a suit."

"Too bad," Root responds in an  _oh-darn_ sigh that drips with sarcasm, and Buddy's gaze shifts to her. "We're not much of the pantsuit types."

"Birthday suits included," he tells her with a wink, and Shaw takes a step forward.

"We're not interested in buying," Zoe picks up, extending her arm out- palm back- signaling for Shaw to refrain from sinking her claws into the store owner. "But, now that I think about it," she continues, and Buddy raises a brow in interest. "I _do_ have a friend. I'm sure you've heard of Dave Hewitt, right?"

At the name, Buddy turns a clammy shade of green; Morgan can't help but to let a devious smirk brush over her lips.

"Thought so," she tilts her head to the side. "You see, he's always looking for a new store to inspect. And considering your music can be heard from Fifth Ave, you're in direct violation of noise pollution."

"Listen," Buddy back tracks, "I didn't mean to offe-"

"I'm not done, Buddy," Zoe interrupts him with the venomous voice of a serpent, each rise and fall of her tone slithering into the man's deepest fears. "Hewitt's got a pretty good record of shutting stores down. I give him a call about some noise pollution in the area, he finds this place, and image all of the things he would find when he walks in to tell you to turn it down."

The store owner swallows hard as Morgan does a casual glance around.

"When do you think's the last time you took a _broom_ to this place, Buddy?" His jaw clenches.

"What the _hell_ do you _want_ from me," he seethes, beady eyes burning hot as coals.

" _I_ don't want anything from you," she answers. "My friends, however, could use your help." Upon Zoe's gesture to Root and Shaw, Buddy barks out a cruel laugh.

" _My_ help?" He bellows cynically. "Like I'd help a single one-a-ya tho-"

"Shaw?" Zoe turns, cutting the store owner off once more. "I'm just going to go outside and call Hewitt real quick. Hold down the fort." From the smug flare in Shaw's eyes, the phrase has hit its mark head on with Buddy. Zoe takes three steps towards the door; turns. Every move has been planned out in her head, and as she watches it all unravel so perfectly before her, she can't help but to grin.

"Oh, by the way," Morgan directs towards the man. "Hewitt's always in a suit; he'll be _thrilled_ to hear about your sale." Finally, he breaks.

" _Fine_ ," he grumbles, crossing his arms. "Fine, whatever you want." Licking the taste of success from her lips, Zoe settles back at Shaw's side, hiding her own interest at what Shaw wants to know.

"You know this man?" Shaw asks, showing the screen of her phone to him.

"Nope," Buddy responds, and Shaw's lip twitches with a sneer.

"He worked for you until two weeks ago," Shaw growls, losing her already short temper with him. "Now cut the crap before I fry your ass _myself_." He shuffles in place before taking a closer look at the cell.

"Whadaya want with Tommy?" Buddy asks, eyes scanning between the three woman.

"Somebody wants him dead," Root answers, her chipper voice and innocent smile making the statement all the more terrifying, "and considering you two weren't on the best of terms when you had him fired and forcibly removed from the store, all signs point to you." His jaw goes slack, eyes widening. Then, his gaze turns from surprise to a plea, sweeping between the three women as his hands pick up the slightest of tremors.

"I didn't kill Tommy," he assures them all, voice begging them to believe. "I was mad at the kid, sure, but I'd never try 'n kill 'em. I'd never hurt anybody. Why do you think I hire a pusher for this place? I can't do none of that serial killer stuff." Shaw purses her lips, gaze shifting to her right as she shares a look with Root. One that silently debates his innocence. It lasts a few seconds before Buddy bursts with anxiety. " _Please_!" He belts out in a near blubber. "Ya-You _gotta_ believe me."

"I don't _know_ ," Zoe says, wincing in a not-so-sorry head tilt. "Considering you _already_ lied to her once-"

"I- I can tell you who had a real problem with him," Buddy interjects. "My three to nine guy, he and Tommy were always dishing it out. Got real bad when Tommy stole his girlfriend."

"Name?" Shaw asks bluntly, and Buddy blinks.

"Collins. Uh, Henry Collins."

"Know where we can find this _Henry Collins_?" Buddy's eyes flicker from Shaw to the door and back, then wander once more. His gaze shifts from defensive panic to a more relieved disbelief as he points towards the front of the store. Curious, the three women turn just in time to see a tall, muscular man with a duffel bag slung over one shoulder push open the door. His eyes connect to the three, Shaw giving a small, sadistic wave as Root smirks, and pauses.

He runs.

Dropping the bag, it wheezes as it connects to the sidewalk, and not a second later he is gone from sight. Zoe raises her eyebrows, partially to show her suspicions but also to question how they plan on catching the man. Shaw, rolling her eyes, pushes her way out the door after him.

________\ A Hacker /________

"Get the hell _off_ me!" Collins groans, teeth grinding as Shaw digs her elbow into the soft of his back. He lays face down on the ground, arms and legs flailing like a beetle struggling to scuttle out from under a shoe. Shaw presses her elbow down harder and he wheezes, relinquishing the rest of his fight. A few seconds later, Shaw discerns the sound of footsteps over her labored breaths.

Keeping her elbow firmly in place, she angles herself back, peering in the direction from which she came. Her eyes connect to black wedged heels, then tight black jeans, a leather jacket, brown hair and- Root's smiling face. Eyes glowing, head tilting just the slightest bit down to take in the view, Root crosses her arms across her chest, lips fidgeting as if she's holding back the need to comment- but she can't.

"You caught up fast," Root remarks casually, gaze shimmering with hope, hoping Shaw will say what she wants so she can get to what she really wants to say. Seeing it, and acknowledging Zoe Morgan is no where in sight, Shaw goes along with the foreplay.

"I've been working on my cardio," she jokes back.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were showing off," Root tells her, taking another step forward and extending her hand.

"Oh, _yeah?_ " Shaw asks with a breath of laughter, reaching out and using Root to pull herself up. "And why would I _ever_ do that?" They stand close, Shaw still holding onto Root's wrist between them, and Root shrugs her shoulders, eyes growing all the more devious.

"I don't know," Root responds, voice toying with the thought. "Maybe you wanted to _impress_ me?" At that, Shaw can't help the disbelieving chuckle that escapes her.

" _Please_ ," Shaw says, taking a half step closer, removing nearly all of the space between them. From this close, she can feel the shift in Root's upper hand as it falters, her pulse quickening under Shaw's fingertips. Root's eyes flicker with delighted surprise, and Shaw's new vantage point fills her with an almost delectable pleasure. "If I _wanted_ to impress you, you're reaction wouldn't be so... _subtle_."

Root bites her bottom lip, breath hitching as her eyes battle between looking at Shaw and looking anywhere else. "Who says it is?" Root shoots back, and Shaw- to her mixture of amusement and dismay- feels a lopsided smirk pulling at her mouth.

"I leave you alone for _two_ minutes," Zoe calls out from behind, and Shaw instantly pulls back. "Two minutes, and you're trying out a new torture technique on this guy. What were they doing," Morgan asks the man on the ground, who- sorely- rolls over to look at her. "Was it the eye thing? Or just sexual tension." Zoe can all but hear Shaw's teeth grind, and the back of her head begins to burn from the intense heat of Shaw's flustered glare.

Collins stares at the lawyer, unsure if he should be more terrified of this new comer or the woman who pinned him to the ground.

Sighing, Zoe turns back to Root and Shaw, dropping Collins's duffel bag at their feet. Within seconds, Root has dissected the contents, withdrawing a large semi-automatic and holding it in both hands.

"Care to explain this?" She asks, peeking her head past Zoe to look at Collins. With a wince, he forces out a half-shrug.

"I'm a pusher," he mutters out defensively. "Is it a crime to protect the store?"

"It is when the gun isn't registered," Shaw remarks, turning over the weapon in Root's hands to reveal a scratched out serial number. Zoe watches as Root and Shaw share yet another lasting glance, and she can't help but to roll her eyes.

"Either of you plan on explaining the significance to me, or does ogling for a little longer work better for you?" Morgan asks, and Shaw's mouth slants down in a sneer as Root's pulls up with a smile.

"It's the same type of caliber as the bullets John found at Tommy's place," Shaw answers, dropping her hand from the gun and training her hardened stare on Collins. "Wouldn't be surprised if you had one of your buddies drive you down his street," Shaw muses, growing closer with each dangerous step. "Maybe a quick drive by, then double back to make sure the job was done?" Shaw squats down before him, and he props himself up on his elbows, dark skin beginning to bead with sweat. His lip quivers, anger growing on his face until it contorts his every feature with rage.

"Little punk had it _comin_ '," he spits.

"Shame he wasn't home," Root comments smugly, and his smoldering stare focuses in on her.

"Yeah, well he _shoulda_ been," Collins growls, eyes bouncing to each woman in turn. "Just some damn guy in a suit."

"He can be a real pain, can't he?" Zoe chuckles, and surprise flickers in Collins's eyes.

"You know him?" He asks.

"You could say that," Morgan responds as Shaw hoists their perp to his feet. Grabbing a zip tie from her back pocket, Shaw restrains him, then shoves him in the direction of the car.

"You always keep those on hand?" Root teases as they begin to walk. Peering over at her, Shaw can't help a fleeting smile.

"I like to be prepared."

Collins, brow furrowing, cranes his neck back in Zoe's direction. "So they really _are_ a couple?" He asks her; Shaw's eyes snap instantly to Zoe's with a warning printed in them like 72 point font. Ignoring it, Zoe smiles.

"It's complicated," she answers him.

______\ And A Sociopath /______

"A little warning next time would be appreciated," Fusco chastises as he cuts off the zip tie on Collins's wrists and snaps on a set of thick, heavy cuffs. During this short burst of downtime, Shaw takes the liberty to check the bandages on Root's collar. A small pinprick of blood blossoms at the top layer, and the more Shaw pulls back the bandages, the more crimson appears. Muttering about changing them when they get back to the car, she tapes the bandages back down, not passing up a chance to shoot Zoe Morgan an accusatory glare. As Fusco walks Collins back to interrogation, Zoe steps forward, eyes connecting knowingly with Root's before redirecting at Shaw.

"So... Girls' Night? Friday?" She asks, peering between them. While Shaw gives her a blank stare, Root gives an affirmative nod.

"We'll be there," Root assures her, and Shaw trains her empty glare on the hacker instead.

" _We?_ " Shaw scoffs. "No, no way in _Hell_."

"Why not?" Zoe presses.

"The better question is why _would_ I want to spend more time with the two of you in the _same room_ ," Shaw retorts, and Zoe can't help the chuckle that rumbles up from deep within.

"If you're not there, who's to say someone _else_ won't try and pick her up?" Zoe questions. The gears behind Shaw's eyes turn at that, but she keeps her composure.

"Is that supposed to _bother_ me?" Shaw responds slowly; studying the situation with silent caution. From her side, Root gives a sigh, resting her hand on Shaw's shoulder- she tenses against the touch.

"If it _doesn't_ ," Root coos, mouth close enough to Shaw's ear that her breath toys with Shaw's hair, "then I guess it'll just be me, Zoe, and a lot of alcohol."

"And anyone we pick up along the way," Zoe adds, met with Root's nod of agreement. Shaw's jaw clenches, gaze boring into Root's, waiting for the crack of a smile- the hint of a punchline waiting to surface. Nothing comes. Rolling her eyes and running her tongue across her teeth, Shaw finally caves.

"Fine," Shaw hisses, annoyed. "But only because God only _knows_ what the two of you would get into if I left you alone together."

"Like what?" Root presses adoringly, eyes spilling with affection as her smile grows triumphant.

"I- I don't _know_ ," Shaw mutters out, flustered. "She already _shot_ you once."

"But what are the odds I would do it again?" Morgan interjects, yet Shaw's eyes say she is not willing to take any chances.

Just then, their kidnapped guard stumbles into the precinct in nothing but boxers, an undershirt, and a pair of loafers. His eyes are wild and confused, and he stumbles as he fights off the last fleeting effects of regular exposure to chloroform. Root raises her eyebrows in a way that says she'll take care of it before slipping away towards him. Shaw watches her go, and Zoe watches Shaw, smug satisfaction growing in the lawyer's eyes with each second that Shaw remains distracted.

"Do you _always_ stare at your girlfriend this much?" Zoe asks at last, breaking Shaw's trance. "Because it seems like, if I hadn't been around today, the two of you wouldn't have gotten much done." Shaw's eyes narrow, and Zoe is unsure if Shaw is enraged or amused. _Perhaps toying between both._

"Root is not my girlfriend," Shaw replies, the calmness in her tone proving more harrowing than any tremble of rage.

"Well she's definitely your _something_ ," Zoe shoots back slyly, and Shaw's eyes flare. "So what is it. Your crush? Your weakness? Oh, _don't_ tell me," Morgan's lips curl into a gloating smile, voice oozing with the upmost satisfaction. "I finally uncovered Super Shaw's Kryptonite?"

At that, Shaw snaps.

"She's not- she- I _don't_ -..." Shaw trails off, taking a deep breath to collect herself before starting again. "She's just... She's _Root_."

Zoe nods slowly, eyes glinting with a light that says she doesn't believe a word Shaw's attempting to preach.

"You keep telling yourself that, Shaw," Morgan tells her with a smile, backing away. "I'll see you both Friday." Turning, she starts back for the door, and Shaw can almost swear she's caught a glance of John Reese through the glass double doors.

Letting out a breath Shaw hadn't known she's been holding, Shaw shakes her head free of the migraine Zoe forced upon her, then- catching Root in her line of sight- heads over towards the rows of waiting chairs that line the precinct walls.

"I swear there was this chick and she came outta _nowhere_ ," the guard babbles, fumbling over his lines as he tries to get all of his words out at once. "And she-she was- she was _nice_! Nice, of all things, and then she put this cloth over my face and then I woke up in my car looking like- like- like _this_." He gestures to himself with avid stupefaction. Root nods her head largely, hands clasped together before her as she gives him her full attention. The guard's gaze flickers to Shaw momentarily as she approaches, then his eyes swell out of his head, mouth falling open as a quivering finger points her out in trembling accusation.

" _Her_!" He yells out, jumping to his feet. "It was _her_! She's the one who- who- she-"

"Sir, please calm down," Root says in a soothing tone, placing her hands on his shoulders and easing him back into the chair. "You've been through a traumatizing event; you're mind is playing tricks on you."

"No, _no_ ," the guard insists. " _No_ it's her. That. Is. Her. That's _her_!"

"Okay, okay," Root assures him, eyes holding steadily onto his. "I want you to stay here. Wait for a Detective Lionel Fusco."

"What are you gonna do about her?" The guard asks, jabbing his finger once more in Shaw's direction.

"I'm going to take her in and ask her a few questions," Root responds, leaning to the left and wrapping her hands around Shaw's upper arm. Root nods at the man, making sure he sees her grip Shaw tight, then walks her towards the exit. With each step they take towards the double doors, Root's grasp melts from forceful to fond, hands slipping from her upper arm and wrapping around Shaw's forearm as she leans into Shaw's side.

"You promise you're coming along Friday?" Root asks as they reach the door.

"So long as you promise not to tell her any stories," Shaw responds, slight smile growing on her features.

"But stories are _half_ the _fun_ ," Root replies. "I was thinking of telling her about the first time you shot me," she continues. "Same shoulder." Shaw stops walking, gaze turning on Root with a newfound seriousness. After only a few seconds of being subjected to it, Root tilts her head with a tight smile, eyes telling Shaw to lighten up. Grudgingly, she complies, and they head back for the SUV together.


End file.
